


Playing With Fire

by lucdarling



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Underage Sex, Cowgirl Position, Exhibitionism, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Horny Teenagers, Porn With Plot, Post-Episode: s03e08 The Battle of Starcourt, Protective Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Sharing a Bed, Step-Sibling Incest, Step-siblings, Surveillance, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/pseuds/lucdarling
Summary: Max and Billy grow closer as the government sets their many eyes on Billy for the crimes of his father. If they're being watched and can't stop it, well, the two might as well put on a show.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46





	Playing With Fire

**Author's Note:**

> One of the lovely anons said "would love to see more smut. Or something with more of a plot!" in the comments of my [previous fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24734590) and this idea happened. It's 3k before they kiss and then it gets smuttier with some plot thrown in. 
> 
> Title not so creatively from Nikki's Wives "[Playing With Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0VEHAaUN9io)" because I heard the song for the first time last week and found it too perfect for Billy/Max.

Neil is arrested on a Saturday. It’s not a policeman with a badge in the front yard with red and blue lights flashing. It’s a different badge, and there are many men in suits. They march into the house on Cherry Lane single file.

Neil is all bluster until one, two, four of the men train guns on him. Billy has a grip on Susan’s shoulder as she stands next to him and Max behind his outstretched arm. She’s clinging on tightly, he’s certain there will be nail marks. They’re out of the line of fire but it’s still nerve wracking.

“What’s going on?” Susan asks and there’s only a slight tremor in her voice.

“A misunderstanding,” Neil answers. His mouth is a thin line that Billy knows will beget violence. “I’m sure I’ll get this cleared up at the station.”

One of the men barks a laugh and shakes his head slowly. Billy holds his breath as Neil’s face grows ruddy in anger.

“No police station, Nikolai.” Susan looks on in confusion as Neil’s face pales. “Yeah, that’s right. We know all about you.”

“What’s going on?” Billy breaks in before the stranger can start monologuing like a cheap movie villain. He’s not exactly upset to see his father get arrested. It’s pretty cathartic actually and Billy doesn’t even have to be half-dead on the kitchen floor to accomplish it.

One of the men steps away and leads them over to the couch in the family room. They sit in a line, Susan gripping Billy’s hand like it’s a lifeline. Max is on his other side, pressed against him. He doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s frowning. The agent stands next to Susan, hand on her shoulder in a sick parody of giving comfort. His eyes stay trained on Billy.

“Your father was born Nikolai Fyodorov in Voronezh, Russia. He’s been deeply embedded in American society for decades. Charges will be brought against him for espionage on behalf of a foreign state.”

Susan covers her mouth in shock, tears already starting to form in her eyes. Billy sighs heavily and leans forward, meeting the cool stare with his own.

“Okay, so my old man is a Commie bastard.” He shrugs like it doesn’t throw his entire world in a tailspin. “We’ve dealt with them before.”

“We know. You both did an admirable job.” The agent says calmly. That gets Max’s attention from where Susan is crying into her hands.

“You know?” Max echoes flatly. “You knew what happened at the mall, to Billy and this town and you just what, sat and watched?” Billy puts a hand on her thigh, stopping the rest of her tirade. It’s nice to hear but this is not the time or place for it.

“She doesn’t have clearance for this,” the agent nods toward Susan who has stopped sniffling and is looking at her daughter in surprise. “We have been monitoring Nikolai for some time. Of course his family would be included in that surveillance.”

Billy shakes his head, squeezes Max’s thigh in warning a second time as she opens her mouth. There’s a commotion in the next room, someone being hit. Billy doesn’t have to ask who it was. He watches his father march past the doorway and out the front door, surrounded by men in suits, moments later. 

The agent standing next to them on the couch gives a smile to Susan which could charitably be called a grimace.

“We’ll be in touch.” He squeezes Susan’s shoulder lightly and walks right out of the house without looking back.

“Don’t leave town,” Max mutters under her breath. Billy can’t hold back the snort. His jaw aches from biting back his own commentary on the entire situation.

The door shuts behind the last agent without fanfare. Susan’s sobs are quiet things, grating on Billy’s nerves. His father isn’t apple-pie American. His father is a traitor to the state. His father has been taken away by the government and Billy will likely never see him again. They’ve all been under surveillance for who knows how long.

Billy pushes himself off the couch, feeling like lead is in his veins. “Going to the bathroom,” he says in response to Max’s raised eyebrow and incredulous face. Susan still has her hands over her face and doesn’t look up. He waits to leave the room until Max scoots closer, holds her mother in her arms.

Billy walks through the house and shuts himself in the bathroom. He falls to his knees in front of the toilet with little grace and pukes. His stomach aches when he’s done and he rests his face on cool porcelain as he flushes the mess away.

“Billy,” Max whispers behind him, shutting the door behind her. He picks himself up and leans against the side of the tub, knees drawn up to his chest. He knows he's quiet in a way he hasn’t been since he came home from the hospital years ago but he doesn't know what to say, if there is anything even to say. Max’s blue eyes are dark with worry as she sits down next to him.

“You’re fine, you and your mom had no idea.” Billy reassures, pulls her closer with an arm around her shoulders. He leaves it there when she doesn’t shrug him off.

“You didn’t know either,” Max hardly waits for his head to shake in agreement before she continues. “They were watching us,” she says quietly in that thin voice he hates and has only heard once before at his hospital bed, before his health started improving. “They knew and did nothing in ‘85.”

“Don’t go down that road. You can’t take on the government.” He brushes his hand over the scars on his chest and Max falls silent, curls into him. The house is too quiet, Susan’s crying barely audible through the closed door.

The two of them sit in the bathroom together, silent until Billy’s joints start to ache and he has to move. Max helps him off the floor and they go to his bed by agreement in a shared look, climbing under the covers. It’s not a night to be alone.

Susan’s bedroom door shuts as Billy hovers on the edge of sleep and he wonders when the men will come for him.

A few days later, Billy answers the door to his own kidnapping. Susan is out of the house grocery shopping like it’s a normal day. He isn’t sure how much the town knows, if anything, of Neil’s disappearance.

“Would you mind coming with us, Mr. Hargrove?”

“Do I have a choice?” Billy asks wryly.

“Sure,” the younger of the two men jokes. “The easy way where you come quietly or the hard way.”

“Uh-huh,” Billy looks between the pair. “Let me leave a note for Susie-Q so she doesn’t think I left town.” He isn’t surprised when the men follow him inside.

He tears a piece of paper off the pad next to the phone, writes in a messy scrawl that he’s been picked up to answer a few questions and not to hold dinner for him. He’s not optimistic that he’ll be home for dinner but Susan won’t take it well if he spells it out so bluntly. Max got her out of bed and into the shower only yesterday.

Billy follows the men to the front door, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatshirt. He keeps the hood off even though he wants nothing more than to hide away from the world.

He’s the only one to relish the look of surprise when the front door opens under the agent’s hand and Max steps in. She accidentally hits him with the edge of her skateboard as she tucks it under her arm. Maybe it isn’t an accident; Max is also good at small rebellious acts.

“What’s going on?” Suspicion is clear from her voice alone and she doesn’t waste time barreling past the agent she hit to stand next to Billy. “Where are you taking him?”

“Just for a few questions.” The second man says and Billy is too tired to care that he doesn’t know their names. Max slips her hand in his. Her fingers are thin and cool, poor circulation she always jokes before she shoves them against his neck or under his shirt.

“Right. And he’ll be back for dinner? Mom’s making meatloaf, it’s Billy’s favorite.” She stares at the agent with a gimlet eye and Billy feels a burst of pride.

“I do love Susan’s meatloaf,” Billy says with the smile he usually reserves for Hawkins’ mothers. The agents have to know it’s a farce - he can’t stand the dish since July 4th and likewise, Max won’t touch it.

“Let me say goodbye,” Billy tries. He doesn’t beg because Hargrove men don’t show their weakness. Max’s hand grips his tighter.

“We’ll bring you back,” the first agent promises. Billy swallows back the saliva he wants to spit in his face and turns to Max instead. She comes into his arms willingly, warm from the sun and nearly as tall as him now.

“Don’t be stupid,” Max breathes against his neck. He can’t tell what she’s planning, just knows that she is.

“Be careful,” he replies in a whisper, hoping it’s quiet enough the two men can’t overhear. His hands cup her face gently, like they’re more than are. They are all each other has. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, her temple. She lets him do this without complaint and that’s the biggest sign of all that she’s unsettled.

Max steps back, hand dragging from Billy’s shoulder down the length of his arm. “See you in a few days when the thugs let you go,” she waves cheerily like he’s leaving voluntarily.

The front door shuts behind them and he’s not halfway down the front yard when he hears the sound of something hitting the wall. Billy throws his head back with wild laughter as the younger agent jumps.

It’s the last voluntary sound he makes for the next six days.

Billy enters the house on Cherry Lane with a sense of foreboding. It’s too quiet, there’s no television playing even though it’s probably the right time of day for _MacGyver_.

He coughs, tastes blood in the back of his throat. Max comes in through the back door and watches with wide eyes as he spits into the trash.

“Glad you’re back,” she says after a pause.

“Can’t keep me down,” Billy tries to smile and it sits wrong on his face. Max steps closer like he’s a skittish animal.

“I got KFC. There’s enough for you too.”

“Okay,” Billy says and drops into a chair while she sets it all on the table. He picks at a fried drumstick, wonders where Susan is. Max eats like she’s starving and Billy can smell the scent of sunscreen on her. It’s pervasive or maybe he’s attuned to it, attuned to everything Max. Of course the world didn’t stop turning while he was stuck in a windowless room and she had lifeguard duty today.

“Go shower,” Max says when she’s done eating. Billy sets the chicken down, doesn’t care that he’s only eaten a few bites. He should probably be hungrier but it tastes like sawdust. It still hurts to swallow.

Billy steps into the bathroom and locks the door out of habit. It's one of the few places in the house that has a lock on the inside. He turns the water on hot, leaves his clothes on the rug.

He braces his arms on the tiled wall and lets the water run over his back. It soothes muscles he didn't realize were tense. He's halfway through the multi-step process of washing his hair when Max knocks on the bathroom door.

"Do you mind?"

"No," Billy says. "You'll have to pop the lock." 

It takes her less time to accomplish that than he thought it would. He expects her to pee, to wash her hands at the sink - ordinary things that she could accomplish in the master ensuite. He wouldn’t give her shit for it, understands her desire to make sure he's really here.

Max closes the toilet lid and takes a seat, instead. Billy can see the brightness of her hair through the white shower liner.

"We can talk in here," Max says and Billy jolts in surprise at the words. "Nancy told me the government probably doesn't have a waterproof bug yet and the humidity in this room would kill anything in five seconds."

"Nancy?" Billy questions, dunking his head under the water. "What's Wheeler got to do with anything?"

"She knows a guy," Max says vaguely, like that answers anything. "We're still under surveillance."

"They're not exactly subtle," Billy agrees with a laugh. "That ugly sedan at the end of the block,"

"-parked for days," Max confirms. 

“They do anything to you?” He can see the outline of Max’s shrug. She doesn’t seem hurt so he’ll leave it alone. For now.

Billy turns the water off and tucks the towel around his waist. He sweeps the curtain back with one hand and Max meets his eyes in the mirror.

"Come to bed," she says quietly before she slips out of the small, humid room.

Max is waiting in his bed. Billy isn’t surprised, she spent more nights there than her own when he was just home from the hospital. He doesn’t say anything, just slides between the sheets and lets her curl up next to him.

It’s a welcome weight, her head on his upper arm and arm thrown over his chest like she has a say in where he goes. She does, Billy just isn’t sure she’s realized that yet.

It’s nothing so romantic like _he’d go anywhere, do anything for her_ but he certainly stuck around the house on Cherry Lane after the age of 18 not only to recuperate but to keep an eye on her.

“You’re mine,” he whispers into her red hair. “And I’m yours,” he promises. The words come easy even if Billy Hargrove has no idea who he really is. Surfer far from the ocean, a decent mechanic, and a survivor are good enough labels for now.

The next morning is bright yellow sunshine and a muffled curse as Max rolls the wrong way out of the bed.

Billy doesn’t hide his laughter, laughs hard enough that his stomach starts to ache.

“You’re cooking breakfast,” Max pouts but gets up from the floor to start the coffee maker anyhow.

“Of course I am,” Billy says as he shuffles after her. “Otherwise we’d be eating burnt toast.”

They get halfway through their eggs before Billy realizes someone is missing from the domestic family scene.

“Where’s Susan?”

Max tugs on a lock of hair. “She uh,” She tucks the hair behind her ear and Billy stares at her until she finishes the sentence. “She left. The day after you.”

“Left.” Billy echoes. His voice is stronger today and his throat doesn’t hurt.

“Mmhm,” Max hums. “Packed up and left me.. us half of the money she’d been squirreling away from her paychecks. She might have gone back to California, I think I have an aunt?” Max says it curiously like she wasn't fully certain. She shrugs like she wasn’t bothered by her mother walking out of her life.

“You’re seventeen.” Billy says, rubbing a hand over his face. It was a reminder he needed to shave.

“Nearly legal,” Max grins, tongue between her lips in a way she knows gets Billy heated. He does his best to ignore it.

Billy swears. “The government will love that.” His mind fills up with words like foster care and child neglect and unfit parents.

“I have you,” Max says firmly. “All I need is you.”

Billy rolls his eyes but smiles at the sentiment. “Get to work before you’re late. Pool opens in an hour.”

“I have today off,” Max tells him. “Let’s go for a drive instead.” He’s hard pressed to argue and soon enough they’re speeding down the road.

The government’s sedan follows them. Max hangs her hand out the window and flips them off.

Billy rests his hand on her thigh and traces the letters B-U-G on her soft skin. She shrugs which isn’t a response but he figures it’s more than likely.

“Am I taking you anywhere?” He asks out loud. “Sinclair, Wheeler?”

“No,” Max says shortly and leans back in the passenger seat. It’s a throwback to her younger self, angry at the world and her mom’s new husband and Billy himself, before he died for her and her friends. Billy keeps his hand on her thigh as they roll through stop signs and speed too fast down forest roads. Max spreads her legs a little, thighs sticking to the leather seat as she shifts. If he stretched out his pinky finger, he could probably touch her clit.

He doesn’t.

They drive up to the quarry and park on the far side, half hidden in the brush. Billy can feel Max’s glances on him as they walk through the woods. It’s one of the few places they figure the government can’t listen in. After years of traipsing through these woods with weapons, waiting for alien dogs and other monsters, they’re almost comfortable being surrounded by trees taller than them. It’s a safe bet the government men won’t be, used to cubicles and air conditioning.

“You okay?” Billy breaks first. He stops walking and leans against a tree.

Max mirrors his position, hands shoved in the pockets of her shorts. “Fine. You?”

“Peachy keen,” Billy sneers and Max rolls her eyes. “Why did we walk all the way out here? Never took you for a nature lover.”

“Jonathan had an idea,” she says. Birds chirp in the pause she takes and Billy crosses his arms over his chest.

“The government probably can’t deport you if you’re dating an American citizen. He knows someone who’s applying for their green card right now, says it’s arduous but not impossible.”

“So what, Nancy said she’s gonna marry me?” Billy growls and drops his arms down, fists forming like he can fight the words.

“You don’t have to get married. The government is gonna get tired of watching you soon enough.” Max rolls her eyes as she takes a few steps towards him. “But we both know no one’s gonna believe you and Nancy even begin to like each other.”

“She’s easy to piss off. It’s fun. By that metric, it won’t be Harrington either, even if being with another guy was okay.” Billy scoffs at the idea. She rolls her eyes and puts a slim hand on his shoulder.

Billy tenses and meets her eyes. “Max.” He says in a quiet voice, hands framing her hips. This is a lot like the one time they kissed just a year ago, Max drunk on wine coolers and dizzy with hormones, summer heat. Billy didn’t take advantage, had just placed little kisses on her lips, her neck as she sighed and passed out in her own bed.

“Tell me you want this,” Billy whispers against her lips. He knows there’s no going back from this, not when they’re both sober and there’s so much at stake. Max kisses him in answer. Billy pulls back sooner than she’d like, judging by the whine.

“Use your words, Max.”

“I want this. I want you.” Max says and her eyes are very blue, dark with lust. It’s enough for Billy, who leans his head to the right just a bit and kisses her like he’s thought about doing, all those times he heard her through their shared wall at night with her hand down her shorts.

Their kiss is soft, a little wet. He peeks through his lashes and Max has her eyes closed.

She tugs on his hair and he shivers at the feeling that seems to go straight to his dick. Billy leans back against the tree and pulls her body against his. He tilts her head with a hand on her jaw, fingers tracing the shell of her ear. Max gasps and he slots his mouth over hers.

She kisses so sweetly, hands resting on his chest and sliding up to wrap around Billy's shoulders. Max bites down on his bottom lip, a prick of pain soothed away by a slick tongue. Billy groans and she presses closer, slotting her leg between his. He isn't sure who rolls their hips first, only cares that it feels good.

Max rubs against him, practically riding his thigh and Billy has no complaints. He pulls her top down, tucking the neckline under the swell of her breasts. He palms one and feels her moan into his mouth. It’s a heady feeling.

“Yeah, you like having your little tits played with?” Billy asks, voice deep.

Max arches her back with another, louder moan in answer. Billy flips their positions so Max is between him and the tree. He presses her into the bark, little thrusts of his hips against hers as he gets both hands on her breasts.

He fucks against her fully clothed, hands rubbing and pinching at her tits, dark pink nipples that stand out against her pale skin. Max stares at him with hooded eyes, mouth open as she sucks in a breath.

“You like that,” Billy mumbles, bending down to seal his mouth around her breast. He isn’t surprised when one of her hands flies up to press him closer. A not so gentle scrape of teeth over the bud earns him a loud cry. He licks just enough to soothe the sting and bites again as one hand drifts over her flat stomach to hold her cunt.

She’s soaked through, wet fabric clinging to her lips and his fingers. Billy thinks about just pushing the shorts aside and pressing into her. Max deserves better, though. He presses the heel of his palm against the seam of the denim, listens to her wail at the friction on her clit.

“More, please!” Max shudders in his hands. If Billy had known this was what it took to make her listen, he would have done this years ago when she couldn’t stop staring at him weightlifting in the living room as he built up muscles he lost during his coma.

“Shh, I’ve got you baby girl,” Billy hushes her, strokes over her wetness as he places a line of kisses over to her neglected breast. He moves her shorts aside, knows it won’t be comfortable with them cutting into her and doesn’t care.

Max is so wet she takes his finger with no problem. Billy presses in slowly, pulls out and brushes over her clit. She yells, nails digging into the back of his head.

He pushes two fingers in, a tighter fit. Max bears down, takes them all the way in with a little sigh. He sucks at her right breast, hand coming up to rub at the left as he fingers her with quick little thrusts.

His thumb rolls over her clit. “Fuck,” Max swears so he does it again. The third time she shakes apart on his fingers, coming with a little cry that rings in his ears. Her face is flushed, mouth open as she catches her breath.

Billy slowly withdraws, pats her cunt as she shivers. He licks his hand clean, staring at her the entire time.

“What does your boyfriend think about this?” Billy questions quietly as Max fixes her hair. It’s a mess and there’s nothing she can do about the literal afterglow.

“We broke up,” she says.

“You do that on a regular basis.” Billy laughs. She and Lucas are so off and on, it’s hard for him to keep track.

“No, we broke up for good,” Max clarifies and her shoulders hitch toward her ears in a display of nervousness she’s never been able to hide. “He didn’t take us that well.”

“Well shit, Maxine,” Billy drawls as she tucks her tits back into her shirt and straightens it out. “Did you think he would?" He starts walking back to the car and she follows on his heels. He’s not interested in coming, cock growing limp as his brain turns back on with what they just did, who else Max has told, what the government will do with this information.

They get back to the road and the government sedan is waiting, pulled up right behind the Camaro.

“Really?” Billy sighs. He gives a quick visual check of his tires, side mirrors. It doesn’t look like they touched his car, but he resolves to go over the engine with a fine tooth comb tomorrow.

“Didn’t take you for a screamer,” one of the men says, flicking his cigarette to the ground.

“Hey,” Billy says sharply before the man can say more. “Get in the car.” Billy isn’t even sure who he’s talking to, Max or the agent.

“Hope you enjoyed it,” Max licks her lips and winks, a move she stole directly from Billy. She slides into the passenger seat and folds her legs in slowly. Max slams the door shut and Billy glares at them as he starts the car.

“Firebrand,” he mutters under his breath as she flicks through the radio station. It’s only halfway fond and Max flicks him off between the seats. Wouldn’t do to present anything less than a united front to the government. The sedan follows them through town and back to Cherry Lane.

“They’re perverts,” Max says and stalks into the house. Billy stays in the car, turns the words over in his head until it seems like a bad dream.

They don’t talk about it, not at dinner or the next day when Max is rushing out the door to lifeguard on a double shift.

Billy pops the hood of the Camaro when he returns from the community pool and runs his hands over all the parts, collecting grease and dirt under his fingernails. The government man, the younger one, introduces himself as Harold. He hands him tools and at one point, a water bottle.

Billy takes the conversation and the wrench, leaving the water bottle untouched. They talk about Indiana’s basketball team, trash talk Purdue and the Illini when it turns out the agent grew up in Hammond. Harold claps him on the back with a laugh that almost reaches his eyes when Billy lowers the hood and wipes his hands off.

“See you tomorrow, Hargrove,” he calls out as he walks down the driveway.

Billy feels paranoid but heads inside the house and straight into the shower, soaking his clothes before clumsily stripping as the steam swirls around him. He runs his hands over all the seams, tells himself they’re clean and any government agent wouldn’t be so stupid or obvious.

He does his best to squeeze out the water and hangs everything to dry on the back of the dining room chairs. Neil isn’t here to yell at him for walking around in boxers, nor is Susan.

Max catches him squinting at the lightbulb in the kitchen when she drops a bag of diner burgers on the counter. The milkshakes are sweating in their cardboard holder.

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

“You look like an idiot,” she tells him and eats her burger sitting on the kitchen counter. Billy eats his standing up. They make faces at one another, laughing like children when the last bite squirts ketchup all down his chest.

He cleans up while she showers off the chlorine and sunscreen. It’s too early for bed.

“Movie?” Max offers, already bending down to put it in the VCR. Her pajama shorts are old and threadbare.

She flicks her eyes to the couch and then the window. Billy’s brow furrows as he tries to decipher whatever she’s not saying out loud. Max clearly gives up, drags him by the arm to the couch and turns the volume up as the video starts.

“Like I said before, you’re an idiot.” Max says, rolling her eyes. Her hand hasn’t left his arm but it’s not a harsh grip.

“Yeah okay,” Billy retorts, shrugging her off. He doesn’t move away when she tucks her feet under his thighs however. “Got something to say that they can’t hear?” He tips his head toward the front window.

“Why are your clothes drying in the dining room?”

“Got paranoid after Harold clapped me on the back. Practically took apart the car, didn’t find anything.” Billy mutters, just under the sounds of Goldie Hawn being introduced to her new life as a mother.

“Who the hell is Harold?” Max gives him a look, like he’s been making friends without her.

“The junior agent.” Her face scrunches up in disgust. “So what exactly are we doing, Max?” He draws out the vowel with a smirk, looking up at her through his lashes. It’s never failed to make a girl fall at his feet before and Max is no different.

She squirms at the end of the couch, feet wiggling under his thighs.

“You made me come,” Max says, one hand coming up to rest on her collarbone. “Guess I owe you one, huh?”

Billy spreads his legs in invitation and Max hits his arm harder than he expects. She gets down on her knees anyway.

“You look good down there, red.” Billy tells her, lifting his hips and pushing his boxers down. 

He rests a hand on the back of her head, puts the other behind his head just to show off his biceps in case the government men are peeking in through the window. He wouldn’t put it past them.

His cock is flushed and half-hard against his thigh. Max strokes it, rubs her finger over the slit to gather wetness. She leans over, one hand on his thigh as she takes the head in her mouth.

Billy’s head thumps back into the couch at the feeling of wet and heat, the feeling of him resting flat of her tongue. She sucks gently, tonguing at the slit before taking more in. Billy’s eyes open - he isn’t sure when he closed them - and watch her cheeks hollow.

She looks up at him, a quick glance through her lashes. Max’s blue eyes are wet and she’s only halfway down. Billy’s hand on her head rests there, playing with the fine strands of her hair.

Max pulls off with a wet sound, stroking him slowly.

“That it?” Billy asks, putting a little pressure on her head. He’s not going to force her, but things were just starting to get good.

“Just thought I’d ask the nice government men outside, as they listen to this, how long exactly they’re going to be listening in?” Max says with a smirk. Billy chokes on a laugh and nudges her head back to where he wants it.

She strokes him a few more times, twisting her wrist on the upstroke, before her hand resumes jacking off what doesn’t fit in her mouth. Or, Billy should say, the part that didn’t fit before. Now that Max has asked her question and ensured the agents will have to waste their time listening to them make out and fuck - an idea Billy can wholeheartedly get behind - she swallows him down to the root.

“Oh fuck,” Billy groans as he pushes into the tight heat of her throat. Max hums as she bobs her head. She tries to keep his hips from bucking with the hand on his thigh but it’s not possible.

It’s over in a matter of minutes, Billy’s not proud. He tells himself it’s because he hasn’t gotten laid in a while, too long. Not because it’s Max, all grown up and sucking like a champ. He spills into her mouth and she holds it, standing and leaving him on the couch with his dick spit-wet and going soft.

“I’m not a prude,” Max tells him, coming back from spitting in the sink and rinsing her mouth. “Yeah,” she says to his dumbfounded look, “You were talking out loud there at the end.” She looks inordinately pleased with herself. Billy rolls his eyes and staggers to his feet.

“Going to bed. Don’t stay up too late,” he tells her and waves a hand at her as she settles on the couch with the tv remote.

“G’night,” Max responds, already sucked into the episode of _The Late Show_.

He doesn’t know when she decides to call it a night, but she’s there next to him in bed when the banging on the front door wakes Billy up. He glances at the clock and groans.

The sun came up maybe ten minute ago, it’s still dark outside and will be for at least an hour. Whoever is out there was an asshole.

He disentangles himself from Max’s limpet grip and goes to answer the door. He smirks at the sight of the agents in slightly wrinkled suits.

“Making a house call again? I would have put coffee on,” Billy leans on the doorframe and doesn’t bother to cover his yawn.

“That might be a good idea,” Harold says as the other agent brushes past Billy with a shoulder check to enter the house.

“Sure,” Billy calls after the men. “Make yourself at home. Not like you haven’t already,” he mutters to himself and returns to his room to find something to wear that isn’t only a pair of boxers.

He looks at Max, sleeping peacefully and drooling on the pillowcase. He shoves at her shoulder.

“Hey, wake up.” 

“Fuck off,” she mumbles and rolls herself in the sheet, away from him.

“We have company,” Billy says in a quiet, serious tone. Max’s eyes fly open and normally, he’d laugh at seeing her so unexpectedly alert with such bedhead but it’s not the time for it.

“Guess they got my message last night. Or they want to watch a repeat performance.”

“Shut up and get dressed,” Billy rolls his eyes and digs a shirt out of the drawers. He enters the kitchen moments later, feeling a little more prepared even if it’s just a faded Slayer shirt.

He looks suspiciously at the full coffeepot and then Harold. The agent nods at him and Billy shrugs, pouring two cups. He leaves Max’s on the counter and takes a seat opposite the agents, his usual chair at the dining table nonetheless.

“I understand you and Maxine had some concerns?” The lead agent says.

“It’s Max, fuckface,” the girl herself says, picking up the coffee mug and leaning against the counter. “Yeah, we got some questions. Like do you have a warrant for the wiretap you’ve probably got on the phone or the bugs scattered around the house?”

Billy’s lips curl into a small proud smile as she continues to harangue the government men for being perverts who obviously enjoyed listening into what occurred last night, considering they wasted no time in coming over today.

“Enough,” the agent says and slams his palm on the table. Billy and Max both go very still, years of ingrained habit taking over their nervous systems.

“Yes, we’re watching you both and yes, it’s legal.” The agent says calmly.

“For some given definition,” Max snarks and takes a loud slurping sip of her coffee.

“It will be for one month,” Harold says and tries to smile. It’s a poor disguise and Billy dismisses him with a glance. The other agent is very clearly the one in charge, and the one who won’t be appeased so easily by talks over car engines or showing a little skin.

“A month, huh?” Billy drawls. “Just to make sure what, I’m not secretly in cahoots with the Russians? Or to make sure I don’t get any murderous urges or start drinking bleach again?”

“Exactly,” the agent in charge says. His eyes are flat and cold when they meet Billy’s.

“This is bullshit,” Max breaks their staring contest, mug hitting the countertop so hard Billy’s surprised it doesn’t chip. “He’s an American, just like you and me and all the goddamn people in this town. You can’t just watch us for kicks or to get your rocks off. Dr. Owens already cleared Billy years ago!”

“We don’t work with that department, Ms. Mayfield,” the agent says smoothly. “Please try to contain your outbursts and your provocative behavior in the future.”

“Suck my nonexistent dick, jackass,” Max spits and turns on her heel. The door to a bedroom slams shut not a minute later.

Billy raises his hands in the air with a shrug and a smile. “Redheads, you know what they’re like.” He licks his lips, just to get the point across and delights in Harold’s flush. “Gentlemen, you can see yourselves out. Next time, don’t wake us up. Would hate for you to see something you weren’t prepared for.”

It’s not smart to bait the government, not when they’re breathing down his neck like this but Billy has always been a risk taker. Driving too fast, drinking too much, cigarettes strewn at his feet; until one horrific monster put a stop to the drinking and smoking in excess. Of course the monster and his father, both no longer in his life, still manage to twist his life up.

The front door shuts and not a breath later the sound of Metallica comes through the walls. Billy opens the bedroom door and stops at the sight of Max, naked and touching herself.

“Took you long enough to run them out,” she says, rolling hips up to get three fingers further into herself. “You think if we fuck loud enough, they’ll give up?”

“I think it’s worth a try,” Billy says, already shucking his shirt. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Max nods her head and Billy hikes a leg over her slim body. He covers her easily, broad muscle and scars a contrast to her freckles. She tilts her head up and brushes their lips together.

It’s something slower, sweeter than the day in the forest. Billy takes his time, learns the shape of her mouth and the soft skin of her neck. Max moans as he sucks a mark under her jaw. He leaves a chain of lovebites across her chest, just low enough to be covered by her swimsuit. Her nails scratch over his head, petting and teasing. Her legs fall open and Billy slots himself between them, cock trapped between them. He ruts down on instinct before he has a better idea. He slides his arm between her back and the mattress, rolling them before Max can do more than protest wordlessly.

Billy stares at her for a long moment, arm dropping from her back to rest on her thigh. Her skin is highlighted with the glow of the morning sun and he can feel her slick on his stomach when she grinds down.

Max takes his cock in her hand, rubbing the length between her lips and over her clit with a not so quiet cry. He knows she’s playing it up for the government, doesn’t mind and lets himself groan out loud when the head slips into her. She slides down without waiting very long at all, tight wet heat around his cock. Billy watches her stretch to take all of him, pulls her down that last inch as Max whines at the burn.

It’s not a bad sound and Max makes it again when she pulls up and sinks down, starts to ride him.

“Did he fuck you like this? Did he like seeing you on top?” Billy growls, hands leaving bruises on her hips as she shifts in his lap. He keeps up a steady stream of dirty talk: what Max may have done with her boyfriend before this, how good she feels around him and how she takes his cock so well.

“Never did,” Max says between little panting breaths. “Missionary only, one hand on my tits.” Billy reaches up and squeezes one roughly, just to hear her cry out. He pinches one nipple then the other, pleased when she tightens around his cock.

“Fuck,” Max gasps and slides her left hand down to rub at her clit. Billy slaps it away, circles his thumb over it. She shudders on his cock when he flicks at it, so he does it again until she pushes his hand away because she’s too sensitive.

“Sounds boring,” Billy says as he thrusts up, balls drawing tight as his orgasm nears. “You’re not boring, are you baby?”

Max’s eyes snap open in a glare and she leans forward to dig her nails into his chest, right at the edge of one of his scars. Billy laughs at the pain and her expression, fucking up into her with short quick strokes.

She comes without warning, squeezing so tight around him that he can’t even move until her walls release him. It’s heaven and his brain whites out until Max sighs and sinks down, taking him deeper even while she shakes like it’s almost too much.

“In or out?” He manages to ask, slowing his pace and wrapping a hand around the base of his cock so he doesn’t fall over the edge as she trembles with aftershocks.

“Pull out.” Billy holds still as Max lifts off him and he jacks off with one, two strokes before he comes on her stomach.

It’s undeniably hot, watching his come drip down into her nest of red curls and knowing that she’s his. Knowing that he fucked her better than that little shithead she’s dated for years.

“That was good,” he says dumbly, falling to the side of her. 

“Yeah,” Max agrees. She lights a cigarette and takes the first drag before passing it over. Billy smokes and wipes himself off with some tissues as she goes to the bathroom, does whatever girls do in there after a really good round of sex.

Max comes out, panties back on.

“No second round?” Billy smirks.

“I’d like to be able to walk.” Max slaps at his arm as he cackles. “Sitting in the lifeguard chair will be hard enough later this afternoon.”

“There’s a joke in there,” Billy smiles and pulls her against him when she flops down onto the bed. “Is this what we’re doing now?”

“I don’t see why not,” Max tugs on a blond curl with a smirk. “We’ve been dancing around it long enough.”

Billy smirks back. “Here I was, thinking I was being subtle.”

“Yeah,” Max rolls her eyes. “So subtle, practically volunteering to do my laundry.”

“Says the girl who can’t stop staring when I lift.” Max’s cheeks flush but she doesn’t deny it.

“Fine, we’re both gross.” Max concedes with a shrug. “At least we have each other.”

“Are they still parked outside?” Billy mumbles. His eyes are closed but he can hear her soft footfalls to the window, the shift of the blinds.

“Yep.” Max confirms. “Hope they enjoyed the show.”

“We could do better,” Billy says and pulls her back down onto the bed. Max shifts, one leg thrown over his. “Tonight, even. We’ve got a whole month to make them regret this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Why is this the longest thing I've written in years? Let me know what you think in the comment box. :)


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